


Waiting at the Docks

by TigStripe



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, winter themed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigStripe/pseuds/TigStripe
Summary: Oliver stands alone, overlooking the bay as the snow falls and chills the world around him to the bone. What is he waiting on?
Relationships: Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Waiting at the Docks

Snow drifted down gently through the otherwise still air on the docks as Oliver looked out at the horizon, the normally blinding sunset reflection missing due to the clouds overhead. It was rare to get this much snow on the coast, but it wasn’t unwelcome - it brought a sense of crispness or clarity to the air. Sure, it would sometimes burn the inside of your nose or give you the shivers, but it was natural. Pure. Beautiful.

As Oliver stood in silence, he was oddly at peace, but there was an itch on his left palm. His fingers flexed, searching for something that was missing from this perfect, wintery wonderland. There were thoughts of “you’re just overthinking things” and “you’re an idiot for standing here alone” floating around in his head, but he pushed them aside without a second guess.

Crunching perked up his ears as someone approached from behind on the lightly snow-coated dock. Normally, Oliver would be the first one to turn and mark the newcomer as friend or foe, but he recognized the sound of the accompanying coat rubbing against this new person’s legs as they walked. The  _ swish swish _ brought a bit of a smirk to his face. The fingers on his left hand stretched out reflexively to the noise, the tips searching for something.

Another set of fingers interlaced themselves with his left hand, and soon a shoulder rubbed up against his own as the two stood there, taking in the snow over the bay. They simply existed together in contented silence for a moment before the newcomer sniffled a little.

“I hate the snow,” Tommy said, rubbing his nose with his free hand.

Oliver looked over at him with a gentle smile. “You don’t hate it.”

Tommy returned the smile with a playful glance. “Nah, I don’t.”

“So. Why the dock?”

“You asked me here, Tommy.”

“I did?”

Oliver looked at the ground as he shifted his weight. “Yes. You did.”

“Oh.” Tommy looked around, as if looking for something. “Well, it’s certainly romantic. I must be good at this.”

The smile forced itself onto Oliver’s face. “What did you want to talk about?”

Tommy’s free arm shrugged and he gave his friend a smug smirk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Only slightly annoyed, Oliver gave Tommy a very annoyed stare, complete with clenched jaw, but it didn’t last. His lips curled back into a smile almost instantly as he started to laugh.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, sharing in the mirth. “What’s so funny?”

Oliver reached up and brushed an absolutely enormous cluster of snowflakes off of Tommy’s eyelashes, evoking a bit of a blush from the subject. How he hadn’t noticed it himself was a mystery. “Oh, nothing. Nothing’s funny.”

“Good. I was going for ‘suave’ or ‘romantic,’ not ‘funny.’” Tommy turned back to face the bay while gripping Oliver’s hand tighter. Oliver’s eyes roamed down to their interlaced fingers and lingered there, his own grip firm. That’s what his fingers had been searching for.

As he looked back out at the bay, Tommy’s head leaned over and rested on his shoulder, neither of them saying anything. All the quips and jabs were over - all that was left was them, the darkening sky, and the snow. Oliver once more was at peace, but this time, he was also complete.


End file.
